Sherlock
by CrackpotDemigod
Summary: Annabeth Chase suffered an injury to the leg that had her sent back to London. Soon she meets Percy H. Jackson, a consulting detective for the London Police. Now we follow on her adventures with Percy as together they solve murders, catch criminals, and ultimately face off against the greatest criminal masterminds the world can throw at them. Follows Sherlock on BBC Percabeth?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: My New Flat mate

_Lowly Flat_

_Unknown POV._

Gunshots… Screaming… Blood… Death, those sounds and experiences haunt me to this day, prying at my very soul. Images of my friends, those I lived with, fought with, bonded with, hell even killed with were flashing all around me, as well as their agonized faces the moment a bullet blasted through them. I was a doctor, yes, but out there in the field, I was as useful as a book to a blind man. There were wounds I could have prevented with but a simple bandage, however the moment I treated someone a stray shot would rip through them, killing anyone I tried to help. Everything molded from clear pictures to undesirable blobs as hundreds of faces I could have saved flashed before my eyes. Suddenly, a sharp pain ripped through my leg and I fell to the ground in agony, feeling blood pour out of me just as I screamed

"MEDIC!" I woke, sweating buckets and crying rivers. I looked around frantically, breathing heavily, waiting for someone to come charging in with AK-47's, but nothing happened. The only thing I saw was the dim, damp hellhole that I called a flat, the noisy air-conditioning humming loudly, the shower hose still dripping water and the busy street outside.

"*Sigh, just a dream… it's just a dream." I sighed in relief as I fell back into my bed, my blonde hair spilling out around my head. I exhaled deeply, trying to block out the images, but they just kept coming. Eventually, I couldn't hold it in anymore and I started sobbing. After a few minutes when I found out that I couldn't cry myself to sleep, I sat up, about to go to the loo when I decided that I didn't need to go anymore, so I just stared at the wall for a few minutes. I looked at my clock to see what time I had woken up tonight.

"Bloody hell, 5:00 AM! *Groan, oh god… that's the fifth time tonight" I whined, trying to stand up, however my one leg just couldn't support me and I fell to the ground, landing face first on the ground.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I was literally pounding my fist on the floor, angry that I couldn't even stand straight anymore. So in the end I just lay on the floor and eventually fell asleep… that is, until my alarm blared through the entire flat, making me rise up in anger.

"Great, another sleepless night. Hooray." I said, flipping myself over so I faced the celling. I looked to my right and saw my cane, leaning on my desk, so I flipped over and squirmed towards it, grabbing the cane by its bottom. I used it and the table to pull myself up so I could at least stand, however I did put most of my weight on the cane instead of my leg. I slowly hobbled over to the kitchen (if you could call it that) and took my breakfast, a few biscuits and a cup of coffee. I nibbled on the biscuits a bit before sitting myself on my desk. I pulled out the drawer next to me, retrieving my laptop and opening it to my blog, which by the way was completely empty.

"The Blog of Dr. Annabeth Chase Watson. God what the hell am I gonna put in here."

_TIMESKIP!_

"How's the blog going Annabeth?" asked my Therapist, looking at me the way he always does, calm and questioning. I hesitated to reply, but I did so that he wouldn't continue to ask me about it.

"Yeah it's… uhh… ok I guess." I replied, but he looked at me skeptically.

"Really, because from what I can see here…" My therapist pulled out his laptop and showed me my empty blog. "You haven't written a word."

"You just wrote 'still has trust issues'." I tried desperately to change the subject, and it worked for a split second.

"And you are reading what I'm writing upside down." He closed the laptop and looked at me sternly. "Annabeth, you're a soldier. It will take time to adjust to civilian life. You've seen things that no woman should ever experience and believe me, writing a blog about what is happening to you now, will seriously help you."

I replied to him with a look of sadness. "Nothing happens to me Dr. Chiron. Absolutely nothing."

_POWERLINEBREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Conference Room_

_No POV._

Multiple flashes of cameras and chatting journalists were all centered in one room, all focused on a man and woman. From the neck down, the woman-looked normal, she wore a blue blouse and a long work-dress with women's work shoes. However, her hair was short and spiky, oddly complementing her stormy blue eyes. The man wore a grey polo shirt with black trousers and a black coat. He had olive skin that completely contrasted his black hair. Both the man and the woman were sitting in a table with a gigantic picture of a strange woman in the background.

"The body of Marie Andrews, an accountant found in a sports center two days ago in greater London. Initial investigations suggest this was a suicide. However, the method of which Ms. Andrews killed herself closely resembles the previous suicides of Sir Phillip Manson and John Wilson. In light of this, all three incidents are being treated as linked and the investigation is still ongoing. Detective-Inspector Di Angelo will now be taking questions." Said the woman and immediately every journalist in the room erupted in a fury of raised hands and voices.

"Detective-Inspector, how are these suicides linked?" asked one journalist.

"Well, as Detective Grace stated these suicides all are linked because each of the deaths were caused by the same poison. Uhh, they were all found in places they had absolutely no reason to be, and… umm, they all didn't have any prior indication of…" started Detective-Inspector Di Angelo but a very eager journalist cut him off there.

"But there are no such thing as 'serial suicides'." Said the journalist.

"Well apparently there is because we have a case of one right now. Next question." Said Detective-Inspector Di Angelo.

"These people, is there nothing that links them together?" asked another journalist.

"Well, nothing yet but… we're looking into any links between the three people." Suddenly every phone in the entire room, including the phones of the two detectives rang simultaneously.

"If you've all got texts please ignore…" started Detective Grace.

"But it just says 'incorrect'."

"Yes, just ignore it. Now back to the questions." The journalists apparently followed Detective Grace as they continued to barrage the two investigators with random questions.

After a few minutes… "Alright, if there are no more questions for Detective-Inspector Di Angelo this session has come to an end."

"If these are all suicides, then what are the police investigating?" inquired one journalist at the very back of the crowd.

"Well, the suicides are _clearly _linked and it is a very unusual situation and we have our best people investigating." Said Detective-Inspector Di Angelo and again, all the phones in the room began to ring as another round of "incorrects" were sent to all the journalists.

"Ignore them. Last question." Shouted Detective Grace.

"Are there any chance that these are all serial killings?" said someone and Detective-Inspector Di Angelo panicked slightly.

"Uh, umm… well, these 'killings' do appear to be suicides, there is a difference. The poisons of each person were clearly self administered and all of them were by lethal injection." Replied Detective-Inspector Di Angelo.

"But what if these are serial killings, how people keep themselves safe?" Once again, the journalist was right on point as Detective-Inspector Di Angelo was struggling to give an answer.

"Well… don't commit suicide." Detective-Inspector Di Angelo mentally slapped himself, for in his panicking state, he said the absolutely worst thing to say at a time like this, and everyone knew it.

"(Curtain Call)." Whispered Detective Grace and Detective-Inspector Di Angelo understood immediately what he should do.

"Clearly this is terrifying news, to know that three of our fellow Londoners died in circumstances such as this, but all everyone must do is exercise sensible precautions and most of all don't panic. We are as safe as we want to be. Thank you for coming." The Detective-Inspector was a second away from standing up and leaving, when another barrage of "Incorrects" flew out all across every journalist's cellphone. However, on Detective-Inspector Di Angelo's phone came a different message.

_You know where I am. – PHJ _the Detective-Inspector looked uncomfortably at the message before putting in his coat pocket and standing up, leaving the crowd of shouting journalists who were trying to get more out of the Detective-Inspector.

"You need to make him stop Nico, he's making us look like fools." Said Detective Grace as they walked down the halls of the New Scotland Yard police department.

"If you tell me how he does what he does Thalia, then I'll make him stop." Replied

Detective-Inspector Nico Di Angelo as he went to see the only person who could ever make sense of the mysterious killings.

_POWERLINEBREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Regents Park_

_Annabeth POV._

My doctor (me) said that I needed a walk every day to keep my mind off my leg, so here I was in Regents Park walking down one of the paths from one end to the other until a random voice out of nowhere called to me.

"Annabeth? Annabeth Chase?" asked the voice and I turned around to see a rather thin man approaching me. He was wearing a brown overcoat and a white polo with a rather colorful necktie. "It's me Grover, Grover Underwood. We were at Barts together."

"Grover? You're Grover? I hardly recognized you, you're so…" Let me explain. When I knew Grover, he had an arse wide enough to block out the sun and cause an eclipse. Now he looked thin enough to fit through a toilet paper tube. He grew his brown hair and now had a goatee whereas the last time i saw him he had a bowl cut.

"Yeah, I lost some weight." He said and I shook his hand. A few minutes later we bought each other coffee and sat down on one of the park benches.

"So how are you Annabeth, I heard you were off in Afghanistan getting shot at what happened?" I nearly didn't reply, but my therapist told me that I needed to trust people more so I gave it a go.

"Well, I got shot." I tapped my leg with my cane and Grover looked at me understandingly. "Ahem, well, are you still at Barts then?"

"Yeah, teaching. Bright young things just like we were. God I hate them all." We both chuckled at the little joke, but my laugh immediately disappeared. "What about you? In town till you get yourself fixed up are you?"

"Well I can't really afford London on an army pension now can I." I said with a tinge of bitterness and resent.

"Oh come now, that's not the Annabeth I know." I looked at Robert with a tad angry at what he said.

"Well I'm not the Annabeth Chase you knew." I said and he immediately shut up. There was a moment of awkward silence before anyone (Grover) decided to speak again.

"Couldn't you go over to Mallie's?" asked Grover

"Ha, you wish." I said laughing.

"Well you could get a flatshare." Grover's suggestion sounded like foreign language to me. The last person I had a flatshare with was Grover, and I didn't like having to sleep in someone else's house, especially since I was a girl and that I made his oven explode.

"Hell no. You know what happened when we shared a flat, no thanks." I may have denied Grover's suggestion with malice, but he just laughed.

"Hahaha, you know, you're the second person who said that to me today."

"Second? Who was the first?"

_POWERLINEBREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_St. Bartholomew's Hospital_

_No POV._

Inside the many corridors of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, through the lingering atmosphere of sickness and death, there was one area that was oddly more active than any other area in the hospital, the morgue.

"What do we have?" asked a man, peering into a body bag.

"Just in. 65 natural causes, all signs point to torture. He was an intern here, nice guy, brought me coffee every morning and tea every afternoon." Said a woman in a lab coat, walking around the body.

"Right then." The man closed the body bag and looked the woman in the eyes. "Rachel, we'll start with the whip."

Minutes later, the woman was standing outside a window along the hallway, cringing as she watched the man continuously whip a human corpse, while on the other hand the man seemed to be enjoying himself as he continually inflicted what would be gruesome wounds.

"Bad day?" asked the woman, Rachel, walking over and examining the body.

"I'll need to know what bruises form in the next 20 minutes. Text me the details and pictures, my client's life depends on it." The man wrote several details in a little red notepad before closing it and putting it back in his pocket.

"L-Listen, I was wondering, m-maybe after all this we can…" Rachel started but a judgmental look from the man stopped her cold.

"You're wearing lipstick. You weren't wearing lipstick before." The man started inching closer to Rachel's face, but she pulled back in discomfort.

"I-er, refreshed it. Can't a woman refresh her makeup." Stuttered Rachel, looking away nervously before the man could say anything else.

"Right, fair point. So what were you saying?" Rachel, mustering up all her courage was able to let loose a few words.

"Yes. Would you like to have some coffee?" Rachel was hopeful that the man would say yes, but her hopes were immediately shot down when the man said:

"Triple Espresso please. I'll be upstairs if you need anything." said the man as he strode away, leaving a very disappointed and sad Rachel.

_POWERLINEBREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_St. Bart's Laboratory_

_Annabeth POV._

After I asked about the other person, Robert dragged me to his car and drove me all the way to St. Bart's and led me through the entire complex towards the chemical laboratory. There I saw a man in a black coat hunched over a microscope and jotting down notes as if he were an actual scientist. The moment the door closed he whipped his head to look at me, and I was nearly, if not breath taken on how drop dead gorgeous this man was with his black hair and green eyes.

"Well, not my kind of day." I said, not taking my eyes off the man.

"You haven't seen anything yet." said Grover, holding my shoulder. "Annabeth, this is…"

"Grover I need your phone mine has no service." Said the man interrupting his own introduction.

"Well what's wrong with the landline?" Grover was quite sad he didn't get to do his introduction.

"You know I prefer to text." The man held out his hand, expecting a phone to be placed there.

"Sorry, left it in my coat." The man looked disappointed and returned to studying what was on the microscope until I remembered I had a phone in my pocket.

"Um…here, use mine." I took out my phone and handed it to the man who looked slightly shocked.

"Oh, thank you." The man opened my phone and started typing a bunch of keys.

"Ah, this is an old friend of mine, Annabeth Chase Watson." Said Grover and I waved. I was still wondering who this man was until he said something that surprised me even more than being hit by an RPG. "Afghanistan or Iraq?"

I looked at the man in shock as Grover started smiling like a madman. "Sorry?"

"Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?" he asked again, still not taking his eyes off the phone.

"Wait, how did you…" I started, but the door suddenly opened and a red haired woman in a lab coat came in with a mug.

"Ah Rachel, coffee. Thank you, I felt like I was about to doze off for a second." Said the man as Rachel shyly handed over a hot mug of coffee to the man. "Hey, what happened to the lipstick?"

"It… um, wasn't working for me." she said, blushing heavily.

"Really, I thought it looked great, now your mouth looks too small." The man slowly walked away as he sipped his coffee, leaving Rachel stunned and looking angry at herself.

"What do you feel about the violin?" Asked the man as my face grew more shocked, and Robert grew more excited and happy by the minute.

"What?"

"Oh, I play the violin when I think, sometimes I don't talk for days-on-end, will that bother you? Potential flatmates need to know the worst about each other." he, finally looking up at me. I couldn't help but feel slightly creped out that a complete stranger knew that I served in Afghanistan and that I was looking to share a flat with him. I looked to Grover, but he said he didn't say a word about me to this man.

"Who said anything about flatmates?"

"I did. I told Grover that it must be difficult to find a flatmate for me. And here you are with an old friend just after military service in Afghanistan." The man retrieved an overcoat and scarf from one of the lab shelves as he walked over to me. "Wasn't a difficult leap."

"How the hell did you know about Afghanistan?" I asked.

"Nice little place around central London, together we can probably afford it. We'll meet there 7:00 this evening. Sorry, gotta dash, I seem to have left my whip in the mortuary." The man hurriedly made his way to the door and would have left if I had not stopped him.

"Is that it?"

"Is that what?" he turned towards me confusedly.

"We've only just met and now we're about to share a flat?"

"Yes, is that a problem?" I shook my head and chuckled.

"Yes, we know nothing about each other. I don't know who you are, I don't know where we're meeting, I don't even know your name." I said.

"Well… I know that you're an army doctor who has been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know that you have a sister worried about you but you won't go to her for help because you don't approve of her and she's probably an alcoholic but more likely because she recently walked out on her husband. And I know that your therapist thinks that your limp is psychosomatic, quite correctly I'm afraid. That's probably enough to go on with, don't you think." I was utterly gob smacked as the man smirked and turned towards the door.

"Are you stalking me?" I asked, slightly afraid that he was my personal crazed stalker.

"Stalking you? What in god's name are you talking about, we've only just met." He replied stepping outside the door, but not before poking his head back in and saying: "The name is Perseus Holmes Jackson, call me Percy, and the address is 221B Baker St. *Wink, afternoon miss."

As the door shut closed, I looked at Grover who merely smirked at my look of total surprise and personal violation that a man who I never met before had literally just told me all of my personal information, even the things about my sibling.

"Don't worry, he's always like that." Said Grover, attempting to reassure me that I had just stepped into something I shouldn't have gotten into.

_POWERLINEBREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Lowly Flat_

_Annabeth POV._

As soon as I got home, I limped over to my bed and immediately flopped on it with the events from earlier this afternoon still fresh in my mind. I lay there for a few minutes till I decided to take a look at what Percy sent on my phone.

_If brother has green ladder arrest brother. PHJ_

When trying to figure out what the text meant didn't really seem possible, I decided to try and search some information about Percy to get a clear picture of who the hell he was and how he could do the things he did. I opened up my laptop and typed "Perseus Holmes Jackson" and pressed the enter key, my eyes widening as millions of solved murders, famous ones, had his name as the first word in every single one.

_ENDLINEBREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

**How did you like that? I hope you did because-**

_No one want's to read what you write at the end notes, that's just stupid._

Besides, it's useless to write now that our readers have ended here.

**Fine, let's end our first fic together.**

We are the CrackpotDemigod, and we bid you all farewell and we'll see you, in the next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Study In Yellow

_Baker St._

_Annabeth POV._

I staggered from my old flat all the way up to the address Percy gave me a few hours ago, 221B Baker St. Although I was a little daunted that a slightly well known detective invited me as his flatmate, I was more concerned with how life would be like, the cases, the murders, the people, it all seemed like something of a dream, and I liked it. I went up to the door and banged the little knocker on the door, but the sudden appearance of Percy from behind me made me turn away.

"Hello." I saw Percy stepping out of a taxi and paying the cabby his fare.

"Ah, Mr. Jackson." I said, going over to him, but he just came to me and shook my hand.

"Please, just Percy." As we broke our handshake, I couldn't help but admire the spot where the flat was located, smack dab in the middle of London with a little café on the ground floor, _Speedy's Sandwich Bar and Café._

"Well this is quite a prime spot. Are you sure it's not too expensive?" I asked, very afraid that my army pension wouldn't be nearly enough to cover the rent.

"Well the landlady has given me a special deal. Owes me a favor. A few years back her husband was accused of a few nasty crimes and was sentenced to death in New Jersey. I was able to help out a bit." Percy said

"Sorry, are you saying you stopped the execution?" I asked.

"Oh no, no, no I didn't stop it (laughs)… I ensured it." He said casually, even with a smile. I was so freaked out that I didn't notice the door open up and a kind looking woman with long, straight brown hair, sparkly blue eyes and a the warmest smile I've ever seen on someone.

"Percy!" the woman said in a sweet voice as she hugged Percy. After a few seconds they broke the hug and Percy gestured to me.

"Dr. Annabeth Chase, meet Mrs. Sally Jackson, our landlady and also my mother." I was a little bit shocked when I heard that the landlady of our flat is also the mother of my flatmate, and from the story earlier I got the impression that Percy inadvertently killed his father.

"Y-You're his-" I started

"Why of course she's my mother, what do you expect, a flat as beautiful as this could be afforded on your army pension?" asked Percy and I raised my hands in defeat.

"Hello Mrs. Jackson." I said, going over and shaking her hand but she sweetly replied:

"Please Annabeth, just Sally. Come in, come in!" Sally led us through the door and shut it behind us. The bottom floor of the flat was slightly cramped, but I still fit as me and Percy walked up the stairs and through a single door on the second floor. To properly describe the flat itself would take too much complicated words and descriptions, so I'll only say this: it was scattered, messy, and probably the dirtiest flat I've ever seen, but there was no dust or mold anywhere in the room, just papers, books and a few pieces of furniture here and there.

"Nice, very nice…" I said, going to the kitchen where the dining table was covered by a load of chemistry equipment.

"Soon as we get all this rubbish fixed up/So I went straight and moved all my belongings in." Percy and me talked at the exact same time, and we both looked at each other with confusion.

"Wait, this is all yours?" I asked as Percy walked over and started picking up objects and putting them somewhere.

"Well I could straighten a few things up…" said Percy, throwing some papers around and stabbing a book to the wall with a knife.

"Is that a-" I started, pointing to the thing on top of the fireplace.

"Friend of mine." He said, picking up the brain in the jar and holding it up. "Don't worry, it's just a baboon brain, although it does appear to be smarter than a human brain more often than not."

"What do you think then Dr. Chase? There's another bedroom upstairs, if you'll be needing it." asked Sally, smiling and Percy and me looked at her in shock.

"O-Of course I'll be needing it, why won't I be needing it?" I asked as Sally walked to the kitchen, making comments about the chemistry equipment.

"Wait, what do you mean about not needing two bedrooms?" I asked

"Well because you and my son will be sleeping _together _won't you. Oh I do hope you keep the noise down, the neighbors don't really appreciate noises late at night." She said and both Percy and me blushed heavily.

"W-We are not dating!" said Percy, about to drop a box on his foot.

"Oh don't worry Percy, your taste in women won't be judged, but I do like her a lot." Said Sally and I turned away before I became a walking cherry. I immediately plopped myself on a little couch before looking at Percy who was opening up my laptop.

"Looked you up on the internet last night." I said, ignoring the giggles of Sally.

"And what did you find? Something interesting?" he asked, smirking.

"Well I found your website, 'The Science of Deduction'."

"And what did you think of it?"

"Well, you said you can identify an airline pilot by his left thumb and a woman having an affair by the state of her knees?"

"Yes, and I can read your military service in your face, and your leg and your brother's drinking habits on your mobile phone." He said, reminding me of the incident back in Bart's hospital.

"How did you do that by the way?" I asked and he was about to answer before Sally interrupted.

"How about these suicides then Percy, three exactly the same. I thought it'd be right up your street." She said, holding up a newspaper.

"Four." Said Percy out of nowhere, surprising all of us. "There's been a fourth, and there's something different about it this time."

Just then, heavy steps echoed from the stairway and a man came in.

"Where is it this time Di Angelo?" asked Percy, not even bothering to look at the man.

"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens." Said the man, Di Angelo I guessed.

"What's different about it, you wouldn't have come if there wasn't something different about it."

"Well you know how they don't leave notes? This one did. Will you come?" asked Di Angelo and Percy's eyes narrowed.

"Who's on forensics?"

"Michael." Percy visibly scoffed at this "Michael".

"He doesn't work well with me, and I don't like him." Said Percy, crossing his arms.

"Well he won't be your assistant."

"I _need _an assistant." Di Angelo sighed heavily before saying.

"Alright whatever, will you come?"

"I'll take a cab."

"Thank you." Di Angelo bowed slightly in relief before leaving the room. When Percy was sure he left, he started jumping around and celebrating like a five-year-old child who got the toy he always wanted.

"Yes! Splendid! Four serial suicides and finally one of those bastards leave a note! Oh it's Christmas. Mother, I'll be late. Might need food." Percy went over and picked up his scarf and coat and went over to the door.

"I'm your landlady and mother dear, not your housekeeper." Sally said, surprisingly calm.

"Something cold will suffice. Annabeth, make yourself at home, have a cup of tea or something. See you lot later." With that, Percy ripped the door open and trampled out of the room.

"*Sigh, look at him, dashing about… You seem to be more of the sitting down type. Most of you youngsters are all around shopping and whatnot, but I can't blame you for not being like them, what with your leg and all…" At the moment Sally mentioned my leg, some part of me snapped and I lost myself.

"DAMN MY LEG. Sorry, I am so sorry, it's just (taps leg with cane), sometimes this bloody thing…" Sally seemed fairly shocked and offended for a moment, but it all melted away with her soothing smile.

"Oh no worries dearie, I've got a hip. Now you just rest your leg and I'll fetch you that cuppa."

"Yes, that'd be lovely, thank you." I replied.

"Just this once dearie, but I'm not your housekeeper." Sally walked over to the kitchen and started boiling some tea as I picked up the newspaper already on the sofa I was sitting on and started flipping through articles. One specific article caught my eye, a picture of a woman who had recently committed suicide, and in the little sub header was the picture of… Di Angelo? His name was Detective Inspector Nico Di Angelo.

"_Why would a Detective Inspector come to this flat? And how does he know Percy?" _I thought.

"You're a doctor." I whipped my head towards the doorway and saw Percy just standing there. "In fact, you're an army doctor."

"Yes." I stood up in acknowledgement.

"Any good?"

"Very good."

"Seen a lot of injuries, then. Violent deaths." Percy started making his way towards me, hands behind his back and a straight posture.

"Comes with the job."

"Been in some trouble too."

"Yes, yes. Enough trouble for a lifetime." Memories of my time in Afghanistan started flashing before my eyes, but it all seemed to drain away when I looked into Percy's sea-green eyes, that looked kindly back at me.

"Want to see some more?"

"Oh god yes." I replied without hesitation and we both left through the doorway and were rushing down the stairs. "Sorry Mrs. Sally, I'll skip the tea. Off out."

"Both of you?" asked Sally from her kitchen which Percy replied:

"Four suicides? All of which were impossible? No point in sitting at home when there's something fun going on!" Percy went over to his mother, grabbing her by the shoulders and kissing her on the cheek.

"Look at you, all happy. It isn't decent." Said Sally with a less reprimanding tone than I thought.

"Who cares about decent? The game, Sally, is on!" Percy seemed cheerful as we went outside and hailed a cab for the both of us and before I knew it, we were off to Lauriston Gardens.

_POWERLINEBREAK~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Taxi_

_Annabeth POV._

The cab ride was quiet aw the entire time Percy was on his phone, or my phone, texting to whoever's number he put on the screen. So many questions about Percy filled up in my mind, where are we going? Who was he? Why did a detective-inspector of New Scotland Yard come to him? How did he know about me? As more questions formed, it seemed as though Percy noticed because he asked:

"Ok, you've got questions…"

"Yeah, where are we going?" I immediately asked.

"Crime scene. Next?"

"Who are you? What do you do?"

"What do you think I am?" I thought about it for a minute; the lab, the detective-inspector, and the website and figured it out all on my own, mostly because of the web links I found on Percy.

"I'd say… private detective."

"But…"

"But the police don't go to private detectives."

"Good. I'm a consulting detective, the first one in the world. I invented the job."

"What does a consulting detective do then?"

"It means when the police are out of their depth, which is all the time, they come to me for help." I inwardly chuckled at Percy.

"The police don't consult amateurs." Percy then looked at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes before turning away.

"When I met you the first time earlier I asked you Afghanistan or Iraq. You looked surprised."

"How did you know about that?"

"I didn't know, I saw. Your haircut and the way you hold yourself says military. But your conversation says you were trained at Bart's – so definitely an army doctor. Your face is also tanned, but there's no tan above the wrists. You've been abroad but not sunbathing. You're limp is very bad and noticeable when you walk, but you didn't ask for a chair when you stand like you've forgotten about it so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That said, the original circumstances of the injury were probably or were traumatic. Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan – Afghanistan or Iraq." I was utterly amazed, but there were still some facts that needed clearing up.

"You said I have a therapist."

"You have a psychosomatic limp, of course you've got a therapist. And there's your brother. I saw it in your phone: expensive, email enabled and MP3 player. You're looking for a flatshare, you wouldn't buy such an expensive phone so it's a gift. There are scratches, not one, but many and made over time – it's been in the same pocket as keys and/or coins. You wouldn't treat a luxury item like this if it were yours so it's had a previous owner. Next bit's pretty easy, you know it already, the engraving."

"The engraving?" I recalled that my phone had an engraving on the back, but I didn't really care before today.

"Mallie Watson. Clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Definitely not your father, this is a young woman's gadget. Could be a cousin but you're a war hero with no place to stay and it's unlikely you've got extended family, not one you're close to. So clearly it's a sister. Now who's Kayla? Three X's on the phone says it's a romantic attachment and the expenses of the phone says spouse not boyfriend if 'Kayla' is even a boy name, it's most probably short for some other name. Must've given it to him recently because the model is only six months old. Marriage trouble then, six months and she's already given away the phone. If he'd left her, he would've kept it because of sentiment but no, she wanted rid of it. She left him. She gave the phone to you because she wants to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but you didn't go to your sister for help. That says you have problems with her. Maybe you liked her husband or don't like her drinking."

"How-can-you-_possibly -_know-about-the-drinking." I emphasized every word as Percy started smirking devilishly.

"A shot in the dark, a good one though. Power connection, there are tiny little scuffmarks around the edge. Every night she plugs it in to charge but her hands are shaking. You'd never see those marks on a sober woman's phone; never see a drunk's without them. There you go, you were right." Percy handed me my phone back and I was utterly stunned by his explanations.

"I was right, right about what?"

"The police don't consult amateurs." Percy grinned at me and I sat there in shock and awe.

"That…was amazing." I said and Percy turned away, clearly happy with himself.

"Really?"

"Of course it was. It was extraordinary, quite extraordinary." I praised Percy, but he didn't seem too interested in what I said.

"That's not what people normally say."

"What do they say?"

"Piss off." We both started chuckling uncontrollably as our cab finally arrived at the destination.

_POWERLINEBREAK~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Crime Scene_

_Annabeth POV._

We exited the taxi, but I paid the fare, and we walked down the road a bit to the crime scene where I said:

"You were right. Mallie and me don't get along well, never have. Kayla and Mallie split up three months ago and they're getting a divorce and Mallie drinks, a lot."

"Spot on then. I didn't expect to be right about everything." Percy seemed jolted that he got all of that right, except for one thing.

"Mallie is short for Malcolm." Percy stopped in his tracks as I trudged onward and I looked back at his stunned face.

"Mallie is your brother."

"Yes, now what am I supposed to be doing here?" I said, but Percy ignored me and shouted:

"Brother!" he angrily lumbered forward as I tagged along behind him.

"No, seriously, what am I doing here?"

"There's always something, always something I get wrong. Argh!" Percy scolded himself as we approached a very punk-looking woman, most likely a detective.

"Hello Freak." Said the detective, leaning on a police car.

"I'm here to see Detective Inspector Di Angelo." Said Percy nonchalantly.

"Why?"

"I was invited."

"Why?"

"I think he want's me to take a look." Percy made a thoughtful face and I giggled on the inside.

"Well you know what I think don't you?" asked the detective, looking very annoyed.

"Always Thalia." Thalia looked even more annoyed as Percy just walked right under the police tape. I was about to follow when Thalia stopped me cold.

"Eh, eh, eh, who's this?"

"Colleague of mine, Dr. Chase. Dr. Chase, Detective Thalia Grace." Thalia looked at me oddly and then back to Percy.

"A colleague? How do you get a 'colleague'?" inquired Thalia, bearing the same mischievous glint in her eyes that Sally had when she thought we were…

"No, we are not dating if that's what you think." I said, but Thalia still looked like Sally as she let us in, speaking in her radio:

"Freak's here. Bringing him in." Thalia led us to the doorway of an abandoned looking flat where the Detective Inspector was waiting for us inside. Suddenly, a rather short man in blue coveralls, with a weasel-like face and black hair came out from the crime scene and Percy looked at him with a mix of annoyance and sarcasm.

"Ahh, Michael. Here we are again." Michael sneered at Percy, who smirked at his face.

"This is a crime scene Jackson. I don't want you contaminating anything. Are we clear on that?" said Michael and I swear I could see lightning coming off those two **(like the ones in anime where you see a spark between two people)**.

"Quite clear. And is your wife away for long?" Michael visibly flinched at the mention of his wife and Percy became excited.

"Oh don't pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you didn't they." Percy smiled and said:

"Yes, you told me about that, along with your little affair."

"H-How did you…?" stuttered Michael, quite distressed.

"That's for me to know, and you to never find out. See you later Michael Yew." Percy smiled as he walked into the abandoned building. I nervously followed, avoiding the stares of Detective Thalia and Michael as Percy led me to a room where a bunch of policemen in blue coveralls and booties were prepping to go into the crime scene.

"Who's this?" asked the Detective Inspector as he put on his coverall.

"She's with me." replied Percy, putting on some latex gloves.

"But who is she?"

"I said she's with me." Percy replied sternly and the Detective Inspector stopped asking.

"Aren't you gonna put one on?" I asked, picking up a coverall from the table and putting it on, but Percy didn't reply and just asked Detective Inspector Di Angelo:

"So where's the body?"

"Upstairs, top floor." He said. The Detective Inspector led us up a winding staircase, explaining the situation to us on the way up. "Name's Jennifer Wilson, according to her credit cards. We're running them now for contact details. Hasn't been here long, maybe a few hours and she was found by a couple of kids who were on a dare to sleep in the attic of this old flat. I can give you two minutes with the body."

"I may need longer." Percy replied and the Detective Inspector shrugged as he opened the door to the top floor of the building. There, in the middle of the room was a middle-aged woman in a bright yellow overcoat lying dead on the floor. There was no blood or any gore so the crime scene was relatively clean. I flinched a bit and felt like I was going to puke, but I steadied myself as Percy came in closer to examine the body.

"Shut up." Percy said out of nowhere and the Detective Inspector looked at him confused.

"I didn't say anything."

"No, you were thinking. It's annoying." The Detective Inspector glanced at me in puzzlement but I just looked back at him with the same expression. Percy's sea green eyes scanned the body and he pulled out a little magnifying glass and started going over the body, examining every part from clothing to accessories, occasionally touching and smelling the body. Eventually, Percy started looking at the words carved in the floorboards: _"Rache". _After a few minutes of looking on in interest, Percy stood up, smirking all the way as he started typing something on my phone.

"Got anything?" Asked Detective Inspector Di Angleo

"Not much." Said Percy.

"She's German." Michael suddenly appeared behind me and started talking. "Rache. It's German for revenge. She could be trying to tell us someth…"

"Yes, thank you for your input." Percy slammed the door in Michael's face and returned to typing on my phone.

"So she's German?" asked Detective Inspector Di Angleo.

"No, of course she's not. She's from out of town though. Intended to stay in London for one night before returning to Cardiff – so far, so obvious."

"Sorry, obvious?" I asked and unfortunately Percy ignored me and moved on to Detective Inspector Di Angelo's question.

"But what about the message?"

"Dr. Chase, what do you think?" I was caught off guard when Percy asked me that.

"Of the message?"

"Of the body, you're a medical woman."

"You know we have a whole team outside right?" Percy rolled his eyes at the comment.

"How many times do I have to tell you, they won't work with me."

"I'm breaking every rule just letting you be here…"

"Yes, because you need me." the Detective Inspector looked on in defeat and said nothing as Percy called me over to examine the body. The Detective Inspector left the room, telling everyone to back off as I kneeled down to the body of the woman in yellow.

"What exactly am I doing here?" I asked

"Helping me make a point." Percy whispered

"I'm supposed to be helping you pay the rent."

"Oh but this is much more fun." Percy grinned like a psychopath as I looked at him with curiosity.

"How is this fun? There's a woman lying dead."

"Perfectly sound analysis but I was hoping for something deeper than the obvious." I sighed as I leaned in closer to the body and started inspecting it.

"Yeah… asphyxiation, passed out, choked on her own vomit. Can't smell any alcohol, so it's most likely drugs, possibly a seizure."

"You know what it was, you've read the papers." It took a few seconds to register what Percy said when it finally hit me.

"She's one of the suicides. The fourth?"

"Percy I gave you two minutes, now I want everything you've got." Said Detective Inspector Di Angelo, coming into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Victim is in her early forties. Professional person going by her clothes, I'm guessing media going by the frankly alarming shade of yellow. Traveled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night, obviously from the size of her suitcase."

"Suitcase?"

"Suitcase, yes. She's been unhappily married for at least ten or more years. She's also had a string of lovers, but none of them knew she was married."

"Oh for god's sake if you're just making this up." Detective Inspector Di Angelo looked at Percy suspiciously but he just sighed in annoyance.

"Her wedding ring, it's at least ten years old. The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not the ring, state of her marriage right there. However the inside of the ring is shinier than the outside, meaning it's been regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It's not for work, look at her nails, she doesn't work with her hands, so what or who does she remove her ring for? Clearly not one lover, she'd never sustain the fiction of being single for that long, so most likely a string of them. Simple as that."

"Brilliant." I blabbed and Percy looked at me with a glint of pride and vanity in his eyes, however the Detective Inspector didn't look as pleased. "Sorry."

"So what's this about Cardiff? Explain that." Said the Detective Inspector and once again Percy sighed.

"It's so obvious, can't you see it?" I looked at Percy to see if he was joking, but he was completely convinced that it was as plain as day.

"Umm, not really."

"Dear god, what is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring. Her coat, it's slightly damp so she's been in heavy rain in the last few hours, but there was no rain anywhere in London at that time. Under her coat collar, damp too, meaning she turned it up against a wind. She's also got an umbrella in her pocket but it's dry and unused, so it wasn't just wind, it was strong wind. Too strong to use an umbrella and we know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight so she must've come a decent distance, however she can't have traveled more than two or three hours because her coat is still wet. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong winds within the radius of that travel time? Cardiff." Percy pulled out my phone and showed the Detective Inspector and me a weather report from Cardiff, which showed there were currently heavy rains and strong winds in that area.

"That's unbelievable." I blurted and once again Percy looked at me but just shrugged my comment off.

"Why do you keep saying suitcase?" asked Detective Inspector Di Angelo and Percy looked at him with confusion.

"Yes, where is it? She must've had a phone or an organizer. Find out who Rachel is Di Angelo." Said Percy, walking around and about, trying to look for signs of a suitcase.

"She was writing Rachel?"

"No, she was writing an angry note in German. Of course she was writing Rachel, no other word it can be, but the question is, why did she wait till she was dying to write it?"

"But how do you know she had a suitcase." Once again, Percy rolled his eyes at Detective Inspector Di Angelo.

"Back of her right heel and calf, tiny splash marks that aren't present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase with her right hand; you don't get that splash pattern any other way. Going by the spread of the marks I'd say it's a smallish case. Case this size, clothes like this and a woman this conscious, it could only be an overnight bag so we know she was staying only one night. Now where is it? What have you done with it?"

"There wasn't a case." Percy perked up at the mention that Detective Inspector Di Angelo didn't know where the case was. His face contorted from a sort of thinking face, to one of realization as he ran out the room.

"SUITCASE! DID ANYONE FIND A SUITCASE? WAS THERE A SUITCASE IN THIS HOUSE?" Percy shouted and no one replied with a yes, only shaking heads and disregard filled the house.

"Percy, there's no suitcase!" Percy started running down the stairs and was rambling to us saying:

"But they take the poison themselves, they choose, swallow the pills! There are clear signs, even you couldn't miss them."

"Yeah, right, thanks, and…?" Percy frantically ran down the staircase as he said:

"It's murder, all of them, murder. I don't know how but these aren't suicides, these are serial killings. We've got us a serial killer, love those (claps hands together), there's always something to look forward to."

"Why're you saying that?"

"Her case! Come on, where is her case?! She obviously didn't eat it so someone took it with them!" Another look of realization came over Percy. "So the killer must've driven her here and forgot the case was in the car."

"She could've checked into a hotel, left it there?" I asked but Percy disagreed.

"No she never went to a hotel. Look at her hair! Someone that color-coordinates her lipstick and shoes would never leave any hotel with her hair looking like…" Percy's eyes widened at a hidden fact that both the Detective Inspector and me didn't see. "Oh… Oh!"

"Percy?" I asked and Percy looked at me with excitement.

"Serial killers are always hard, you have to wait for them to make a mistake."

"But we can't just wait!" shouted Detective Inspector Di Angelo

"Oh we don't have to because our killer's already made a mistake! Get onto Cardiff, find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friends were, and find Rachel!"

"Of course yeah, but what mistake?" asked Detective Inspector Di Angelo and the most trivial and vague answer escaped from Percy's lips:

"Yellow!" With that, Percy disappeared from sight, leaving both Detective Inspector Di Angelo and me confused and completely in the dark as to what passed through Percy Jackson's complicated mind.

_ENDLINEBREAK~~~~~~~~~~~_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Warnings and Precautions

_Crime Scene_

_Annabeth POV._

Climbing down a four-story staircase with my limp wasn't easy, but eventually I was able to get to the ground floor. I removed the coverall and booties (obviously not going out with those on) and left the building, now faced with a new problem; how the bloody hell do I get back to Baker St? I looked around and saw Detective Thalia, still by the police tape like earlier, so I decided to ask for a way back.

"You're boyfriend's gone." She said and I looked around in confusion.

"Who, Percy? He isn't my boyfriend." I said

"Yeah, well he just took off. He does that a lot." I searched around for any sign of Percy, but the Detective was right, he was gone.

"Right… looks like he isn't coming back… so, umm, do you know where I could… get a cab? It's just… er, my leg."

"Uh… try the main road." Thalia lifted up the police tape and pointed over to a distant street where I could barely see the headlights of moving cars along a road.

"Thanks." I said, crossing under the police tape.

"So you're not his girlfriend?" Said Thalia and I nodded.

"Nope, just met him this morning." I turned away after replying but Thalia stopped me once again.

"Did you know he doesn't have friends?" she asked.

"Well, his personality doesn't seem appealing but…" I thought about it for a second, a guy like Percy, who can see into your life just by what you look like, wouldn't be very good with other people. So I decided in my mind he mustn't have many friends.

"Well, a bit of advice from me to you, stay away from Percy Jackson." I was a bit shocked at what Thalia said. Maybe Percy is a bit over the top but that's not much reason to tell me to stay away from him, besides, I live with the guy.

"Why?"

"You have any idea why he's here? He's not paid or anything, he just likes it, likes solving cases. He gets off on it. The weirder the crime the better, and you know what? One day, I know that showing up just won't be enough. One day we'll be looking over a body and Percy's the one who'll put it there."

"Why would he do that?" I asked, curious yet creped out.

"Cause he's a psychopath. Psychos get bored _very _easily. So stay away from Percy, or you'll be ending up his first victim." Thalia looked at me in the eyes, her stormy blue eyes piercing my grey ones until Detective Inspector Di Angelo called from the crime scene and she left, shouting another "stay away from Percy Jackson" before I turned around and left. But I barely got ten steps before something weird happened, the phone booth to my left started ringing. I stopped and stared at it for a while but I left immediately and weirdly enough it stopped ringing.

_POWERLINEBREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Main Road_

_Annabeth POV._

I was lucky I found the main road; otherwise I would've been lost in London for a while. Hailing a cab was nearly impossible because every time I tried they'd just ignore me like they already had someone, but I caught a glimpse of a few of them and saw they were empty. Even weirder was that every time I passed a phone, whether it was inside a store or a phone booth, it always started ringing, then when I went away it stopped. Finally, I had enough of this weirdness and at the next phone booth that started ringing I immediately jumped in, picked up the phone and said:

"Hello?"

"There's a security camera at the building on your left, do you see it?" a voice said. I became confused and scared, but I shook it all off and cleared my mind, trying to stay calm.

"I'm sorry, who is this?" I asked, wanting a name for the man calling me.

"Do you see the camera Dr. Chase?" ok, now I was scared, the man knew my name. I didn't know what else he knew about me so I decided to ask:

"H-How do you know my name?"

"Just look at the camera Annabeth, it'll save us both a lot of time." The voice was raised and I decided to comply before I got him angry. I looked to my left and saw a security camera looking directly at me.

"Yeah I see it."

"Good, now watch." The camera faced downwards and moved all the way to the left, completely putting me out of its field of vision. "There is another camera on the building opposite you. Do you see it?"

I gave a little, "Uh huh" before the camera turned 180° and faced away from me. I started panicking a bit, freaked out that the voice on the phone knows my name and is currently manipulating London security cameras.

"And finally, the top building to your right." I hesitated, but I looked anyways and I saw the camera turn completely the opposite direction. Now I was perfectly out of sight from any surveillance cameras in the area.

"How are you doing this?" I asked, trying to stay calm, but I started sweating and my heart started beating faster.

"Get in the car Dr. Chase. I'd make some kind of threat, but I'm sure what's happening to you is quite clear." A black sedan pulled up in front of me and the voice hung up. A big, tough looking chauffer popped out of the drivers seat and opened the passenger door and I decided not to argue. I contemplated fighting off the chauffer, but I scratched out the idea since the chauffer looked like he could fight a bear and come out alive. I got in the car and it drove off taking me to who knows where. Also, beside me, there was a well-dressed woman texting on her phone, apparently ignoring me. I couldn't take the silence for long so I decided to start conversing with my kidnapper:

"Hello."

"Hi." The woman looked at me and smiled kindly, but it seemed so plastic.

"What's your name then?"

"Er… Ella." I almost left her alone, but judging by my situation I had to ask:

"Is that your real name?" Ella put down her phone, looked at me and said:

"No." She smiled before returning to texting whatever to whoever she needed to.

"Well I'm Annabeth."

"I know." The rest of the ride was silent as we pulled up into an abandoned warehouse, where the lone figure of a man was leaning against a black umbrella and seemed to be waiting patiently for something, most likely me. As the car stopped, I opened the door and got out, walking over to meet the man who was surely my kidnapper. He was well dressed and looked like a businessman with his fedora, business suit, and leather shoes, however he emitted an aura that felt like he could destroy your life just by thinking it.

"Have a seat Annabeth, the leg must be killing you." Said the man with the voice I distinctly recognized as the one that talked to me on the phone. He pointed to a small leather padded chair in front of him and I replied:

"You know, you could just phone me, but very clever with the cameras and all that. But you still could've phoned me, on my phone." I tried to sound sarcastic but the man just smirked.

"When one is avoiding the attention of Percy Jackson, one must be very discreet, hence this place. Now the leg _must_ be hurting, sit down." The man waved his umbrella around and gestured to the warehouse I was in. He then pointed to the chair, once again trying to make me sit down.

"Umm, no thanks, I'd prefer to stand." I stood straighter and tried to make myself look taller, but it was hard to do that when the man you're talking to is probably 6'5 and I was 5'9.

"You don't seem very afraid." Said the man, making himself look even scarier.

"You don't seem very terrifying." I stood firm and the man looked at me for a second and laughed.

"Hahaha, yes… the bravery of the soldier. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don't you think? What is your connection to Percy Jackson." The man glared at me, trying to make me fear him, but I kept reminding myself that I've seen worse things than him and said:

"I don't have one. I just met him this morning."

"Mm, and since yesterday, you've moved in with him and now you're solving crimes together. Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?" The man raised his eyebrow curiously and I envisioned myself strangling and shooting the next person who says that Percy and me were dating.

"Who are you?" I said, trying to change the topic.

"An interested party."

"Interested in Percy, why? I'm guessing you're not friends." I tried to pry deeper into the man's relationship with Percy but he seemed to know what I was doing, for he smiled and said:

"You've met him. How many friends do you think he has? I'm the closest thing to a friend Percy Jackson is capable of having: an enemy." The man looked at me with an expression that I could not read, but from the tone of his voice I could tell he was bad news.

"An enemy?"

"In his mind, certainly. If you were to ask him, he'd probably say his archenemy. He does love a touch of drama, wouldn't you agree?" I looked at the man in skepticism.

"Well thank god you're above all that." I said sarcastically and the man raised his eyebrow. Suddenly, my phone rang and I checked it to see Percy sent me a message saying: _"Baker St. Come at once if convenient. PHJ"_

"I hope I'm not distracting you." The man said.

"Nope, not at all." I closed my phone and put it back in my pocket as I returned my attention to the man.

"Do you plan to continue your… association, with Percy Jackson?" The man seemed very interested in Percy, I wonder why.

"I could be wrong, but I think that's none of your business." I threatened.

"It could be."

"Oh no it _really _couldn't." the man sighed at my apparent stubbornness and instead took out a red notebook from his coat pocket.

"Well, if you do decide to move into, umm… 221B Baker St., I'd be more than happy to offer you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way." The man abruptly shut the notebook before I could take a peek of what was inside and looked to me with hope that I would take the bribe.

"In exchange for?"

"Information. Nothing indiscreet, nothing you'd feel uncomfortable sharing, just what Percy Jackson is up to, and that's all." I was growing even more and more suspicious, but my suspicion was already aroused with the camera tricks.

"Why?"

"I worry. Constantly. But I would prefer my… concern to go unmentioned, for various reasons of course." I couldn't tell if the man was being sarcastic about his "concern" for Percy, he really knew how to hide his emotions.

"Like?" I asked

"We have a what you might call a… turbulent relationship." Again, my phone chimed with another text message from Percy and it said: _"If inconvenient, come anyway. PHJ"_

"No, keep your money." I said, not even bothering to look up from my phone as I read the message.

"But I haven't even mentioned a figure."

"I. don't. care." I said, emphasizing every word and the man looked genuinely surprised.

"You're very loyal, very quickly."

"No, I'm just not interested." I said. The man frowned deeply and took out that notebook from before, the one with Percy's address on it.

"'Trust Issues', it says here. Could it be that you've decided to trust Percy Jackson of all people?" Now I was able to get a small glance at the contents, and even that little glimpse of the notebook scared me more than being shot in the leg.

"W-Who says I trust him."

"You don't seem like the type to make friends easily."

"Are we done here?" I won't lie, I was doing my best to get away from this man as fast as possible, but it seemed as though he knew what I was doing and kept trying to scare me with threats.

"You tell me." I looked at him for a moment and turned around to get back in the car, but not before he called me back saying: "I imagine people have already told you to stay away from him, but I can see from your left hand that's not going to happen."

My eyes widened and I stopped in my tracks at what he said, my left hand? What did he mean? I shook my head in frustration and turned about to face the man.

"My left hand?"

"Show me." he said and I sighed in frustration, but by the look in his eyes he wasn't joking. I lifted up my hand and he came over and held it, his touch feeling like it was poison. "Remarkable."

"What is?" I said as I quickly drew back my hand.

"Most people blunder around this city and all they see are streets and shops and cars. But when you walk with Percy Jackson, you see the battlefield. You've seen it already, haven't you." I thought back to the yellow woman, and I clearly saw the battlefield that the man was talking about, but one thing still didn't make sense.

"What's wrong with my hand?" I asked, already getting annoyed.

"You have an spasmodic tremor in your left hand. You're therapist thinks it's Post-Traumatic Stress disorder. He thinks you're haunted by memories of your military service." Now I was steaming mad, I've had nearly enough weirdness for one day and I decided to end it.

"Just who the hell are you? How do you know that?"

"Fire him. He's got it the wrong way around. You're under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady. You're not haunted by the war Dr. Chase, you miss it." That statement hit me like a bombshell. Miss the war? I began to question my feelings and myself and that made my brain hurt… a lot. "Welcome back."

The man then walked away like nothing ever happened and I was left to my thoughts about what the hell just happened. And once again, my phone rang with a text from Percy saying: _"Could be dangerous. PHJ"_

"I'll take you home." Ella said, suddenly appearing behind me and leading me into the same car that brought me here in the first place. However before heading back to Baker St. I made a stop at my old flat, just to pick up a few things, more specifically, my gun and several magazines.

_POWERLINEBREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Baker St._

_Annabeth POV._

It was about an hour later before I got back to Baker St and I got out of the car as quickly as possible for someone with a limp and the black sedan drove off like nothing ever happened. I stared at the car until it rounded a corner then I quickly knocked on the knocker of the door to the flat and Sally let me in.

"Oh Annabeth, you're a little late, where have you been?" she asked, genuine worry in her eyes.

"Umm, well it took longer than expected to get a cab and so I had to take the tube and it was pretty full." I hated to lie to Sally, but I'd rather not let her know I was kidnapped and bribed by a mysterious man in a suit.

"Ok, well Percy's upstairs if you're looking for him, but if I were you I wouldn't make too much noise." With that, Sally went back to her room and I climbed the stairs to the flat to find Percy lying down on the sofa, holding up and opening and closing his hand, as well as breathing heavily.

"What are you doing?" I asked

"Nicotine Patch. Helps me think." He replied, rolling up his sleeve and revealing three circular patches that were normally used by people who were trying to give up smoking. "Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work."

"It's good news for breathing." I remarked

"Oh breathing, breathing is so boring." It didn't really register until now, but didn't the box say that you only need one patch, not three.

"Are those three patches?" I asked

"It's a three patch problem." Percy sighed heavily and closed his eyes, clasping his hands under his chin like he was praying, but from the few hours I knew Percy he didn't really seem like the religious type. I looked at him confusedly before going over to him and debating whether or not I should poke him with my cane.

"Well…? You asked me to come here so I assume it's important." Percy remained unresponsive as he continued to act like he was sleeping.

"OH yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?" he asked, suddenly bursting from his state of inactivity.

"My phone?" I asked, confusedly.

"Always a chance my number will be recognized, it's on the website."

"Ms. Sally has a phone."

"She's downstairs. I've tried shouting but she didn't hear me."

"I was on the other side of London."

"There was no hurry." I was *this close to whacking Percy on the head for making me think it was something urgent, but I just sighed in defeat and handed him my phone. He didn't even look at me as he held out his hand and I dropped the phone onto it.

"So what's this about, the case?" I asked, going over to the little couch and plopping myself down onto it.

"Her case." Percy sighed.

"Her case?"

"Her suitcase, yes, obviously. The murderer took her suitcase, first big mistake."

"Ok, he took her case. So what?" I was bursting with questions about the case, but Percy just ignored me and mumbled:

"It's no use, there's no other way we'll have to risk it. On my desk, there's a number. I want you to send a text." He held my phone out nonchalantly and I nearly exploded with annoyance, rage and confusion.

"You brought me here… to send a text." I said emotionlessly, but I felt myself give off an aura of annoyance.

"Text, yes, the number's on my desk." Percy didn't even try to look at my face as I sighed and grabbed the phone from his hand. I then went over to the window, just to make sure the man didn't keep some surveillance truck outside or a bunch of video cameras pointed at Baker St. However Percy noticed my concern and asked: "What's wrong?"

"Just met a friend of yours." Percy looked confused.

"Friend?"

"An enemy."

"Oh, which one?" I looked at Percy bewildered

"Well, according to him he's your archenemy. Do people have archenemies?" I asked and Percy looked at me with a scrutinizing look and asked:

"Did he offer you money to spy on me?" Percy's voice suddenly became serous and monotone and I became slightly scared.

"Yes."

"Did you take it?"

"No."

"Pity, we could have split the fee, think it through next time." I was shocked at Percy's sudden change of tone, and that he told me that I should've accepted money from his own "archenemy" to spy on him.

"Who is he?"

"The most dangerous man you will ever meet and not my problem right now. On my desk, the number." Now I was sure it was a good idea to get my gun off my old flat, I'd be in a lot of danger with the people I'm meeting while I'm with Percy. I went over to the trash pile that Percy called a desk and found a little business card that had the most peculiar name.

"Jennifer Wilson? Isn't that… isn't that the dead woman?"

"Yes, that's not important. Just enter the number." He said and I hesitantly dialed the number.

"Done. Now what?"

"These words exactly: 'What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland St, please come." I was a little confused

"What, you blacked out?" I was slightly concerned for Percy, blacking out and texting a dead woman.

"What? No…no! Type and send it quickly." Percy quickly rose up from the sofa, stepping over a table and a few chairs before making his way out of my view. I typed in the last few words and sent the message as Percy came back with something in his hand, immediately setting the object on a chair in front of him as he plopped down on his own little couch.

"Have you sent it?" he asked

"Yes I… what is that?!" I asked, slightly shocked that Percy was now opening a bright yellow suitcase that most probably was the missing suitcase of the dead woman. "Isn't that…?"

"Yes, it's Jennifer Wilson's suitcase." I eyed Percy a little suspiciously as silence took the room and Percy sighed and said: "Oh, should I mention that I didn't kill her."

"I never said you did."

"Why not? Given that text and the fact that I have her case, it's a perfectly logical assumption that I'm the killer, which I'm not." His eyes carried annoyance as he kept examining the suitcase of it's contents, articles of clothing, toiletries and a book.

"Do people usually assume you're the murderer?" I asked, a bit out of the blue, but a logical question nonetheless.

"Every now and then, yes." He hurriedly jumped up and put his feet on the couch, intensely examining the suitcase.

"How did you get this?" I flopped down on my couch.

"By looking."

"Where?"

"Well, the killer must've driven her to Lauriston Gardens. He could only have kept the case by accident if it was in a car. So think, you've got a dead woman's suitcase in your car, what do you do?" He asked and it didn't even take me a second to answer him.

"You get rid of it."

"Exactly, but no one would be able to dispose a case such as this without drawing attention to himself, particularly because yellow is the first color on the color spectrum our brains recognize, as well as the killer is more likely to be a man. It wouldn't have taken our killer more than five minutes to realize his mistake. I checked every backstreet and alley big enough for a car five minutes away from Lauriston Gardens and anywhere that you could dispose of a bulky object without being observed. It took me less than an hour to find the right skip." I imagined Percy going through a bunch of trash piles looking for a yellow suitcase for less than an hour.

"And you got all that because you realized the case would be yellow?"

"Obviously it had to be yellow. A woman that dresses like that on a daily basis would obviously have some sort of 'thing' for yellow, so it's reasonable that she's have a yellow suitcase." I felt slightly stupid with the way Percy explained it to me, but to be fair it was a pretty obvious assumption.

"Why didn't I think of that?" I asked myself

"Because you're an idiot." Percy's blunt and thoughtless answer made me feel a little bad and very insulted. "No, no, no, don't be like that. Practically everyone is."

Percy's "save" didn't make me feel any better, but it spared him a hard slap in the face and a swift kick to the crotch. However, Percy didn't notice my apparent anger and continued on with his "investigation" of the suitcase when he asked me:

"Now look, do you see what's missing?" He asked and I looked at him confusedly for like the millionth time today.

"From the case? How could I?" Percy looked at me in astonishment then said:

"Her phone Annabeth, where is her mobile phone? There was no phone on the body, there was no phone in the case and we know she had one, you just texted it." I had a few contradictions to Percy's assumption, but as usual, he had an answer for every single one of them:

"Maybe she left her phone at home?"

"She has a string of lovers and is careful about it. She never leaves her phone at home." Percy then hopped off the couch and knelt next to the suitcase, not even taking his eyes off it for a second.

"Well, it could be out of battery."

"She has a job in the media, anyone could call her at any time for a story so she wouldn't forget to always have her phone at full charge."

"Ok… so why did I just send that text?" Percy finally looked at me with his big sea-green eyes and smiled.

"Well, the question is if she doesn't have her phone, then who does?"

"She could have lost it."

"Or…?" Percy's sadistic grin and the realization that hit me made my eyes widen in shock.

"Did I just text a murderer?" I asked frantically

"Well maybe she… left it when she left her case. Maybe our murderer took it for some reason. Either way, the balance of probability is that the murderer has her phone"

"And what good will texting a murderer do?" As if on que, my phone started ringing and when I looked at who it was, it was an unknown number.

"A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that could only be from her. If someone just found that phone they'd ignore a text like that, but the murderer… would panic." Percy quickly flipped the suitcase close and went over to the doorway where his coat and scarf were hanging on a coat hanger. However I didn't catch on very well and kept staring at the unknown caller until the ringing stopped.

"Have you talked to the police?" I asked

"Four people are dead Annabeth, there isn't time." Percy was hurriedly putting on his scarf as he talked to me.

"So why are you talking to me?" I asked as Percy put one foot out the doorway.

"My mother took my baboon brain." I looked over at the shelf the brain was supposed to be, and sure enough the floating mass of baboon nerve cells was away from its usual spot.

"So I'm basically filling in for your baboon brain."

"Relax, you're doing fine." I wasn't sure how to feel being compared to a floating a baboon brain in terms of conversation, so I just took it as a compliment.

"Well?"

"Well what?" I was beginning to want to punch Percy again for increasing my confusion.

"Well, you could just sit there and watch the telly, or you can come with me to catch a killer."

"You want me to come with you?"

"I like company when I go out and I think better when I talk aloud. The brain attracts some attention so…" I laughed a bit, mostly out of mockery, but the rest was because of the image of Percy walking around London talking to a brain in a jar.

"What?"

"No, it's just Detective Grace."

"Grace? What about her?"

"She said you get off on this, that you enjoy it." Percy's eyes looked defeated for a second, but it all was wiped away with a triumphant look.

"And I said 'dangerous', and here you are." With that, Percy left the flat and me with frustration in my heart, as I let it all out by shaking my head and saying:

"Damn it!" I picked up my cane and hurried out the door, trying to catch up with Percy before he left me in the dust once again.

_ENDLINEBREAK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_


End file.
